


Bunk

by miscnine



Series: "Ris, Write More" Challenge [5]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Be More Chill - Ned Vizinni
Genre: Drabble, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Jeremy Here/Michael Mell Mutual Pining, M/M, Sad Michael
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25275319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miscnine/pseuds/miscnine
Summary: Oh my god. I can’t sleep.Michael swiped fruitlessly between his eyes to ease the headache, releasing gas as he did so.What do you call this? I’m pretty sure there’s something you call the After of all the high. ‘The High’s Shitty Uptight Brother, the one that tries to get you to process everything,but all at the same time.’ Fuck you. Ugh. Maybe I can masturbate through this? Will that work? Can’t remember if it had worked before.
Relationships: Jeremy Heere & Michael Mell, Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Series: "Ris, Write More" Challenge [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1521635
Kudos: 16





	Bunk

**Author's Note:**

> Please mind the tags! I don't want to trigger anyone.

The shitty thing about drinking coffee all night then taking pills when you suddenly decided you wanted to sleep: your mind gets fucking confused with what you actually want so it just tells your stomach to be a gassy bastard.

Michael was very familiar with that. In fact, it was  _ exactly that  _ which he cursed at these moments.

He flinched awake because of the perceived pressure in his stomach after a full minute of drooling then sat up to swipe the mess off his cheeks and onto his clothes, only to smother the sticky,  _ quite disgusting _ mess onto his bare stomach--a reminder that he stripped during some period of time after the fourth steaming cuppa and before a euphoric, haze-inducing hit of something from his stash (it didn’t matter what, but it did its job).. 

He half-groaned, half-yawned, and flopped on his back once more to glare at the basement’s ceiling.

Michael blinked through a handful of songs before sticking his hand into his mouth to pinch his dry tongue repeatedly.  _ Yep, it was still there, _ Michael sighed.

He stretched his hand to the ceiling and willed his phone to appear in it. _ It’d be great to be Force-sensitive,  _ Michael hummed longingly.  _ Or have a really big magnet. Or a magical essence to Accio things. _

_ Oh my god. I can’t sleep. _ Michael swiped fruitlessly between his eyes to ease the headache, releasing gas as he did so.  _ What do you call this? I’m pretty sure there’s something you call the After of all the high. ‘The High’s Shitty Uptight Brother, the one that tries to get you to process everything,  _ but all at the same time. _ ’ Fuck you. Ugh. Maybe I can masturbate through this? Will that work? Can’t remember if it had worked before. _

Michael huffed. He sluggishly put on the clothes closest to his body and plucked his phone to ring Jeremy.

Jeremy answered the phone to the sound of Michael collapsing back onto the bed.

“Michael?--” Voice crack. “--It’s seven in the morning.”  _ How quickly do I need to be there? _

“I feel like shit.” _ I self-medicated. It didn’t work. _

There came some ruffling that was a telltale sign that Jeremy realized he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep after this phone call. “Are you sick, high, hungover?”

“I couldn’t sleep. Still can’t.”  _ I self-medicated. It didn’t work. I need you with me here, now. _

“You’re lucky it’s Saturday.” Jeremy yawned. “Get dressed, okay?”

“I’m dressed.”

“Did you eat after our call last night?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Mkay, Mikey. I’ll be there soon, okay? Want me to stay on the phone?”

“Thanks, Jer. I’m gonna... gonna try to sleep.”

Michael dropped his arm on the bed and curled up to a fetal position, furrowing his eyebrows and pouting a little. He raised an arm again to feel the sensation of-- something he doesn’t know what to call but it’s cold to his fingertips, and that’s very welcome.

He stared at the door to the basement, feeling a little guilty for making Jeremy go to him. Probably wearing the kindest smile. Probably bearing gifts ( _food,_ Michael sighed happily,  _because he’s ever the perfect provider._ ) Probably willing to cuddle. Definitely cold to the touch, like usual, which works because Michael’s been in this unforgiving heat for hours.

Michael’s eyes drooped as he stared longingly at the door. A new song plays, and he takes it in stride that he spent another night filling in the blank  _ (getting ___ _ ) and wanting things he knew he couldn’t have. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Check my [carrd](https://ps-rreal.carrd.co/#) for ways to: follow me on other soc med (like twitter, tumblr, etc.) and support my work! Thanks for reading!


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